I was only 23 then, a young man, yet on the quest to formulate an identity. Known as the brightest knight of Burgundy, with a whole life ahead of me, when on that fateful night, when the callous sun dawned and never rose once more—the bloody night set its course, and I only relive it every minute of everyday, haunting my nightmares and my every thought.
The storm growled in anger. It got windier, louder, stronger and darker as we approached the castle. Trees were incinerated left and right, the rivers flooded the vast land and the voluminous clouds blocked the little bit of moonlight that shined the path on. All the storm's doing. The only thing that kept us going was her. The fortuitous knight to save the princess received her hand in marriage, so there we were, nine fools playing rescue. Out of our squadron, it was down to whomever she chose (if any of us). As our horses galloped on through the treacherous bolts of lightning increasing in quantity by the second, I noticed..."is that a human-sized bug on top of the castle?" gasped Will. The closer we got, the uglier it appeared. The heinous beast, as if laughing at us, marked its territory with it's disgusting breath. "Th-hat's the m-mo-monster they warned us about?" perplexed Herald with pure agony in his eyes. "That is no monster, it's the devil!" alarmed Hambone. It packed wings taller than the castle itself and breath fire hot enough to melt my entire crew to ashes. I'd never seen one in person, only heard stories of what they can and have done to entire villages. My soul was frightened beyond comprehension or any tremor I'd felt in my existence, but I put on a brave face for my men. "Hiyah! Let's slay this son of a dragon!" yelled Odmar. "How many dragons have you slayed, again?" asked Zøg. "No less than you" he grunted back. The castle was foot distance away, so I signaled a stop to my crew. "Look, I'm sure Drake over there is alert as we speak, and I've no doubt it possesses the hearing of a bat on the verge of death. We must hitch our horses and proceed with caution from here on out."
We snuck in like thieving delinquents, receiving no attention from the landlord. As we arrived at the gates, the wording on top caught my eye, "Four swords may victor, no less, no more. But beware, the cost is ever overboard." I was not sure it even meant anything, I just wish it stayed that way.
We entered carelessly, without an ounce of knowledge as to what awaited. We were such amateurs at the time; had there been any booby traps, an entire squadron would've been found dead at the entrance. The castle welcomed us with warmth, yet it seemed suspiciously easy to enter. I tried analyzing the room, but these children arguing over petty bullshit didn't help the cause.
Hamone: "How are we supposed to slay a dragon anyway?"
Zøg: "I don't know, did you pack the dragon hunting manual?"
Hambone: "yeah, read it earlier. Says you have to use the annoying idiot in your group as bait."
Zøg: "sorry to hear that...do you want an open or closed casket?"
"God, could both of you shut the fuck up or leave?" I interrupted. I couldn't bear another second of the migraine they provoked.
"S-sorry, boss."
"Mhm...where do we suppose the princess resides anyway?" I asked.
"Could be anywhere really, but as long as that abomination stands we may not search in peace."
"Very well. Baltic and Raymond, you two load up the catapult out front while the rest of us apply pressure from within."
"Yes sir."
Both Baltic and Raymond opened the gates and left, but lasted not one minute before they were incinerated to ashes along with the catapult. They were just alive one second, then not the next. We all tried remaining calm, but all felt the unsettling nature of our predicament. We were not the hunters here, we were the hunted. Another thing became clear, we wouldn't leave this castle any time soon. Our way of coping was to act as if nothing.
Hours passed us by, in which all we did was search for tools, materials to build a new weapon, and resorted to mediocre jokes while doing so to try and alleviate the atmosphere. Anything to even the odds.
Zøg: "After we rescue her, she'll cook my favorite foods and bear me 5 children! I'll be the happiest man."
Me: "After I claim her hand, she'll be the best wife and clean all my tools and weapons. Ahh, my mouth turns to water just by the thought."
Will: "If she chooses me, I'll buy her a house and pick flowers for her everyday that I breathe."
Zøg: "When'd you get so soft? Must be that fancy shampay you use."
Will: "It's shampoo, and it keeps me from smelling like you."
Zøg: "What was that?"
Will: "You stink of dog piss, my dead aunt Sally and a surfeit of skunks, I said. Even then the smell remains unmatched"
"Arrrrgh!" he yelled ferociously as he reached for his sword.
"Woah there, boys" interrupts Hambone.
"There's only seven of us left, one dragon remains and a princess is left to rescue. We could have our differences, but unless you want to be that dragon's dinner, I advise you put that sword down and start thinking up a plan."
Will: "Well he started i—"
Hambone: "And I ended it! Now quit your yapping and make yourself of use."
"Look, we're getting nowhere all cooped up together. We'll split up in groups and search for materials to build another catapult. It's the only way we're taking that thing down" I commanded. "Very well then." they replied. I added, "Rowan, you come with me. The rest of you partner up in groups of two and three." Rowan and I headed for the balcony, in hopes to encounter a ballista or at least materials for one. We reached the balcony and looked everywhere, we couldn't find anything when—"look, Hyrem, there it is!" exclaimed Rowan. I merrily followed and sure enough, there it was. A ballista crafted by god, for our prayers were finally answered. "Oh man, with this thing that monstrosity is history!" he cheered on. The beast must have a sixth sense, because shortly after, it crashed our parade.
After using all the ammo in attempts to shoot it down, we were standing on our last leg with no escape in sight. The door back to the castle was far from reach, we'd die if we attempted the trip. The dragon climbed to us slowly, inducing dread that multiplied exponentially each second that passed. It was on our asses. There was no other choice. I've looked back at it thousands of times, it was the only way. If I didn't push him off, the dragon would've devoured both of us whole. Must two pay the price of one in the name of honor?
I kept Rowan's fate to myself. Telling the rest would just stumble on our goal. Wondering the castle's halls, I ran into a group of three of my soldiers. They asked nothing, for they were preoccupied attending to a crisis of their own. Will and Odmar were nowhere to be found. My order was to explore within the walls, but they disobeyed them and it cost them everything...
"There they are!" alerted Herald. Odmar and Will were on the wrong side of the walls. Rowan charmed it for a bit, but not for long. The dragon was back, it spotted them and charged at us with the ferocity of a thousand bulls. Only a fool with a death wish would remain put. Zøg, Herald, Hambone and I were at the other side of the gate. Will and Odmar ran like I've never witnessed again, but the dragon was burning distance away. I had to ensure the livelihood of us four for the greater good. I shut the gate down as swiftly as humanly possible. On the other side, I could hear the innocent screams of both Odmar and Will. That piece of scum animal burned them to death, cooked himself a medium rare, and devoured them slowly all while still alive, excruciatingly burning and pleading for their lives. I don't know dragons very well, but this day I learned that they are purely malevolent by nature. They enjoy the misery of their prey, toying with it and agonizing it.
"You guys go ahead without me." I told my men, knowing with certainty the gate would not stand much longer. I had been nothing but selfish during this entire mission. It was time to put their lives before mine. "We can't leave you here, you'll die!" they cried. I replied, "That's the goal...enough good men have already died, three more don't need to join them. If I stay here and entertain him, maybe you'll have a chance at escaping. Now go, you're only cutting down your chances, and then I'll have died in vain!" They reluctantly ran after having one last look at me. I remained at the gate, awaiting unequivocal death.
I died inside each time the dragon pounded the gate. It all felt so vivid and unreal. I was unsure which would collapse first, the whole castle or the gate. The entire building flinched and trembled at each charge. Luck finally favored the behemoth, when the gate shattered in hundreds of pieces, some getting in my eye. I yelled at it and tried luring it away. When it caught wind of my location, it was determined to murder me. Unlike the rest of its victims, it was eager for its next meal now; burdened with burning impatience after the gate imposed with such resistance. I persistently ran despite the odds, holding onto the thought that maybe I could flip them. There had to be a way. Everything I went through in my whole life couldn't just be to prepare a meal for a damn dragon. The fucker didn't even bother to breathe fire at me, it just opened wide and swallowed me whole, ripping me off this precious earth.
As I fell into the abyss, I howled,
"I will not die in this motherfucker's belly!"
"I refuse this destiny!"
Falling to my death, I pulled out my sword and jabbed it on its rusty throat, barely clinging on to my life by a sword's edge. With better lighting, I have no doubts his stomach's acids would be visible. But there was no time for these thoughts.
"I hope you enjoyed your last meal, 'cause it was your last!"
"Grrrrrr!"
I pulled out my dagger whilst holding on to my sword, which got slipier and slimier each breath that I took. I stabbed and stabbed and stabbed, but my tiny pecker was no match for his brutally thick skin, which was thicker and tougher than the castle's walls. I climbed on my sword the most that I could and gripped onto it to the best of my ability, then jumped whilst ripping it out of its throat then back in; I thrusted and plunged it in with all my might, blood, sweat and tears, then pulled my weight down, sword in both hands with all my resentment and anger. I sliced the beast's throat wide open and powered out of its internals.
They spectated from a distance and all believed I was a hero, but only guilt haunted me, for I knew what I had done. The riddle—I figured it out. Four swords in tarots symbolizes surrender. The only reason I sacrificed my life for that of my friends—who would give there's for mine without hesitation—was yet again, derived from selfish motives. I am not worthy of a rabid dog's love.
All of the dragon's blood drained and morphed into a key and a map. None of us thought such a thing possible, but aimlessly carried on regardless. We followed the cross on the map, leading far from the castle. Many days passed, but we finally arrived at an abandoned, cold and unwelcoming dungeon. Many cells resided, all empty but one. Hambone hastily inserted the key in the lock, turned the knob, and let loose a breathtaking entity.
The moment my eyes met hers awoke something deep, darkly, dreamy within me. I know logically, it could have only been lust, but—the feeling defied logic. I've felt lust before, this was different. A woman had never made me feel this, it felt like raw, primitive desire, like I couldn't contain myself from her. I had to have her. I couldn't not, and this scene was my demise.
As I said, I could not live without the young maiden at this moment in time. It's like an evil aura took over me, and I acted upon my worst, most sinister impulses. I snatched Hambone's mace and clocked him with it, detaching his head from the rest of him. Harold then charged at me without blinking once, so I threw one of my daggers at him with all my vigor—bits of brain oozed from his forehead—and saved the last one in anticipation of Zøg's attack from behind. He grunts every time before drawing his sword, so I dodged in anticipation as soon as he let out his devilish yell. I repositioned myself to his direction and rained hell on him. I missed, so he charged at me and successfully landed a hit on my hand and sliced it clean. He charged at me again, instantly. It happened in milliseconds, but I reacted expeditiously enough to kick his sword out of his hand. He yelled in tears and confusion, "why are you doing this?!" I had no time to feel pain or trauma, so with my remaining hand, I reached for his nostrils and pulled them upwards in the direction of his eyes in attempts to rip out his nose. After the deed, he fell on his knees, shrieking in pain. He was left vulnerable, so I sneaked behind and locked him in a chokehold. I pinned and held him down for as long as I possibly could. His skin resembled a rotten, putrefact grape, when he miraculously used the last bit of consciousness within him to power out. I then reached for my severed hand and threw it at him at mach speed, knocking him down to to ground. While lying unconscious, I retrieved my dagger and pierced his heart with it.
It was not my finest moment (nor first impression), but my actions were not completely mine. After I murdered Zøg, I left this state of utter hatred and malice, and in its place, was donned and haunted by shock, denial, depression, then anger turned delirium. I felt deranged, repeating the scene over and over and over, again and again in my head in a matter of moments. Then I looked at her. The feeling she effortlessly radiated was gone and with it her expressions. She looked unfazed—with a slight grin, actually. This scared the grief out of me. I was briefly relieved of my pains and could only think: what is wrong with this woman?
That was the last thought I conceived while human.
I was once alive. All I am now is a remnant; shattered pieces of a human that once lived, laughed, loved, cried, fought and longed for so much more. I flew too close to the sun, and fell face first without a feather to keep my corpse company. All I do is clean this castle, dust every corner and cook her favorite dishes now. I still feel, but I cannot act on any of my impulses. 86,400 seconds a day, I fantasize of sawing her head off, poisoning her food, pushing her off the balcony, burning this castle; but my will is not mine, for I am not alive. My soul may never leave this wretched building; I am a prisoner to it and her majesty. I've condoned myself to an eternity of torture, pained with remorse, regret, enmity, frustration and shame. If I could do it all over again, I'd have been a better friend to the ones that trusted me. My fate is my own doing.
